


Black Tie

by sparrow_and_tea



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Light Angst, POV Second Person, Sexual Fantasy, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-15 06:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12315807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow_and_tea/pseuds/sparrow_and_tea
Summary: *Working title. Subject to change. Tags to be added as story continues.You're sleeping with one brother while having sexual fantasies about the other. To make matters worse, you now have to worry about planning a party while trying to sort out your feelings.





	1. Day Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I told myself I wasn't going to write fic anymore, but then the new route came out and stirred up all my Saeran feelings again, which has me clinging to the hope of a Ray route now. (Day 10 was completely uncalled for.) So uh, here's a self indulgent short story about a topic that has probably been done to death already by other fic writers. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Story Notes: Takes place a year after 707's route. Secret ending spoilers. No affiliation to my other Saeran / MC fics. 
> 
> This is a work in progress as more chapters will be added in the near future.

*** 1 ***

 

The waiting room at any doctor's office is uncomfortable despite every interior designer's intention of making it appear calm, welcoming, and safe to patients. The walls are always a shade of baby blue, lavender, or mint green; the carpet a mottled pattern of the same palette; the cushioned chairs somehow more stiff than they appear; the multiple televisions always playing some 24-hour news station; and the reading material is a collection of gently worn, dog-eared magazines about celebrities or academia, all strewn across every available table surface. On the wall by the receptionist are the medical pamphlets. These vary from office to office depending on the subject of treatment, but in this particular office the bold white letters on the covers read things like: bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder, and so on. Each depicts a duotone stock photo of a person looking forlorn and troubled. 'Depression' is a soft shade of blue. Go figure.

You fidget with last month's gossip magazine, tossing the glossy pages carelessly in a halfhearted attempt to look as though you're interested. You're not. You've actually read this one last week – cover to cover – during Saeran's previous visit. There's only two other people waiting with you and neither of them glanced over in the past fifteen minutes.

You fling the magazine down on the table next to you and lean back to watch the news ticker race across one of the two television screens. The text is too small to read, but you can't focus anyway.

Whether on purpose or by accident, you've been granted the task of driving Saeran to and from his once-a-week therapy sessions. This was originally Luciel's task, but due to his new job as the network security adviser of C&R International, he's been clocking in work hours that happen to overlap with his brother's appointments. Since you're the second person closest to Saeran, it meant the task was pushed to you. Honestly, you didn't mind helping out.

When you began driving Saeran to therapy he regarded you coolly, which made the twenty minute car ride quiet and awkward, but this was no different from how he treated you at Luciel's. To Saeran, you might as well have been a houseplant; just a thing on the periphery only to be acknowledged when seen and then soon forgotten. You accepted your role with optimism. At least you didn't appear to be contributing negatively to Saeran's complicated healing process. Overtime, he began noticing you more at home. It started with studying looks that often summoned goosebumps on the back of your neck and down your arms when you caught his bright gaze. He also made small talk. “It's too hot outside today,” or, “Do you prefer sweet or bitter food?” You would smile and respond politely despite knowing he'd scoff at your answer or only return silence.

After some time his irritability faded. Though you wouldn't say every interaction was warm and welcoming, it was on par to something like a friendly acquaintance. The two of you fell into a predictable daily rhythm of quick smiles, nods, and light chit-chat. Even Luciel took notice.

“How do you do it?” he asked one afternoon. Luciel was leaning over the back of the couch looking rather defeated. His red hair was a curly mess as if he'd just rolled out of bed.

You glanced up from your book. “How do I do what?”

“Get Saeran to smile. How do you do that?”

“I don't know...” you said slowly. It was the first time you ever gave it thought. “I don't do anything special. We just talk sometimes about nothing in particular, like the weather, food, or plans for the day.”

Luciel sighed, dropping his face to the couch. “Talk about nothing... and he smiles for you. I keep trying to talk to him but most of the time he won't even respond. I guess I should feel happy he isn't an in-patient anymore and has made enough progress to live with us now, but... gah...” He rubbed his forehead. “I just want my brother back.”

You closed your book and sat up, patting Luciel's arm. “He'll get there. The two of you... went through _a lot_. It's going to take time for him to work through everything and start healing, you know? We just have to be there for him throughout the process.”

Luciel managed a weak smile. “ _We_ ,” he emphasized. “You're right. I know you're right. I guess after all these years I thought our reunion would be better than what it is. I imagined him coming back to me with open arms instead of a closed fist.”

You grimaced, recalling when you went to the hospital with Luciel to visit Saeran. He was being detoxed from the drugs Rika gave him during his stay at Mint Eye. That, along with the surge of emotions and twisted memories of his brother's abandonment caused Saeran to lash out violently in the beginning.

“Everything will be okay. Let's just try to stay positive and show Saeran our love and support,” you said with a smile. Luciel referred to you as an 'angel' after that, which made you blush profusely and wave him off so you could get back to reading. It's embarrassing to think about – being called an angel – when it doesn't feel like you're doing anything special for Saeran. Regardless, whatever you did managed to make him smile and that made Luciel happy, which also made you happy.

Lately though, you've run into a problem...

“I'm ready to go,” a voice calls, breaking your stream of thoughts.

You blink and realize Saeran is standing over you. A piece of feathery white-blond hair slips across his forehead when he shifts his weight impatiently.

Your cheeks grow prickly-hot when you realize you've been staring mindlessly at the news, mouth slightly agape like a guppy fish gasping for air. “O-Oh, it's over already? I lost track of time,” you say while jumping up from your seat.

The two of you walk out of the office together and start heading towards the car when Saeran asks, “Can we stop and get ice cream before heading home today?”

A cool breeze kicks up and scatters the dry leaves across the sidewalk. They crunch under your boots. It's a balmy, early autumn day; perfect weather for sitting outside and eating a treat. “Yeah sure, why not? I could go for some ice cream too, now that you mention it.”

He smiles at that and your heart beats a little faster.

The ice cream shop is about halfway between the therapist and home, making it a convenient pit stop after Saeran's afternoon appointments. He usually makes the request on warm, sunny days, and since you've been driving Saeran for nearly the entire summer the two of you had an ice cream date almost every week. You've noticed he doesn't have a favorite flavor. Instead, he tries all sorts of different desserts: french vanilla, soft served chocolate, banana split, cookie dough, sorbet, mint chocolate chip, candy milk shakes, and many more. He seemed to enjoy them all.

Today you settled on a chocolate and vanilla soft serve swirl in a sugar cone while Saeran chose two scoops of green tea ice cream in a waffle cone.

“Is it good? I've never had that before.” You grab a seat at a small outdoor table. The usual spot.

He sits down across from you and gives it a taste. “It's really good. Do you want to try it?”

“Okay, if you don't mind.” Saeran is already stretching his arm towards you. You try the green tea flavor and smack your tongue in your mouth a few times trying to decide if you like it. He's watching you expectantly. “It's... okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yeah, just okay.” You laugh a little. “I guess I just like traditional flavors more.”

Saeran shrugs and continues to lick at his cone while watching the traffic steadily go by. It's peaceful. Not many people visit this time of day so it's only you two outside the parlor sitting quietly together at the table. During these times you learned not to ask how his appointments went. He doesn't like to talk about them.

In the background you hear the soft rumble of car engines as they drive by, the chirping of birds – sparrows hop along the ground nearby looking for dropped bits of food – and with the wind comes the familiar rustling of tree leaves. For a while you just listen to the atmosphere... and steal a few glances at Saeran while pretending to be completely preoccupied with eating your cone.

God he looks good today in his black leather jacket, fitted T-shirt, and skinny dark-wash jeans. You watch as he turns his attention from the traffic to the sky, all while slowly running his tongue over the scoops of green tea cream. For the briefest moment you imagine that tongue on your neck, his lips pressed against your skin, teeth nipping playfully at your ear...

_No._

_No, no, no, this isn't right,_ you scold, but trying to chase them away only summons more unbidden images of you and Saeran together. You're crawling onto his lap and kissing him, gently at first, then deeply, parting his sticky lips with your tongue to taste the green tea cream. Another: he pushes you up against the wall outside the shop and kisses up and down the column of your throat while running his hands underneath your shirt, fingers brushing against your nipples. And another: he's sitting next to you at the picnic table, his hand discreetly slipping down your pants...

Something wet drips on your fingers and you realize the soft serve is melting. “Oh, shit,” you cuss as you start to lick up the mess.

Saeran pulls his focus from the clouds and watches you. “You gotta eat it fast. It's warm out today,” he advises.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer, feeling awfully hot all of a sudden.

Once you're cleaned up, you make an effort to shut out the intrusive thoughts.

_This is the problem_.

Since you began driving Saeran to his appointments, having ice cream dates, and getting to know him little by little, something inside your brain snapped. One day you're sitting in the office waiting for Saeran's therapy session to be over and the next minute you're thinking about him fucking you on the kitchen counter top at home. The fantasy was so abrupt and vivid that you felt self-conscious for even thinking about it in the vicinity of other people, as if somehow they could hear the moans and gasps inside your head or could see a pornographic narrative written plainly on your face.

And the fantasies keep coming.

Just yesterday you caught a glimpse of Saeran after his shower. Peering over the top of your book from the couch you noticed a towel wrapped loosely around his trim waist as he stepped from the bathroom. It was slung low, carelessly, almost _teasingly_ , and you noticed the lines from his hips disappear beneath the white cloth. You ached to see the rest and your mind was happy to oblige. Then, just like that you're being whisked into another daydream where you and Saeran are in the shower together, hot breath mingling with steam, both dizzy with lust and anticipation, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit while you moan into each of his kisses...

You take a huge bite into your ice cream and savor the chill. This manages to stop the recollection before it reaches it's climax, but the throbbing deep between your thighs will remain until you can snuff it out later.

Saeran finishes his ice cream first.

No surprise there. He wasn't the one being bombarded with sexual fantasies for the past five minutes, though it made you wonder if any of his ever featured you...

 


	2. Casual

*** 2 ***

 

_Ping_.

A chatroom must have opened in the messenger.

Rolling over in Luciel's bed while still catching your breath, you grab your phone off the nightstand to check your notifications. From behind you hear Luciel reenter the room and close the door. He slides across the sheets and looks over your shoulder, but instead of reading the messages he begins kissing along your neck.

“You know, this is exactly how things got started,” you say, and playfully try to shake him off.

Luciel laughs and throws his arms around you, causing the phone to slip onto the floor. It makes a soft thud on the carpet. “I know, but maybe I want to go again?”

“Already? Yeah right,” you scoff and roll onto your back. Luciel leans up against you on his side.

“Come onnnn, don't you want me?” he whispers into your ear. His hand gently glides down your stomach towards the spot between your legs, still slick and wet from sex.

“I know you can't,” you say flatly.

Luciel droops his head. “You don't have to put me down right away. You could have at least played along for a minute.”

You giggle and push his hand away.

“We tried that one time and you couldn't --”

“Ahh, don't remind me,” he sighs.

“It's not a big deal.”

“I know it isn't.” Luciel grins then and sits up in bed. He's wearing only his dark blue sweat pants and striped glasses, his hair a mess from their play. “So what are you going to do the rest of the night?”

Still naked, you sit up to fetch your phone off the floor while trying to ignore how awful your hair must look right now. “Hmm, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll take a shower and see if anyone is on the messenger later? Who's to say,” you reply with a shrug. “What about you?”

Luciel crosses his arms and looks up towards the ceiling. “There's some minor bugs I need to fix on the server. I was going to save them for tomorrow but... I feel like I got a second wind now.”

You're busy looking for your panties on the floor. They're somewhere over here... you always lost track of them. It wasn't your fault though. Luciel was the one who usually threw them in the moment. “It's pretty late for a second wind, don't you think?”

“It's only...” You imagine Luciel is looking around for a clock. “Uh... eleven? That isn't late. My old job had me working all hours of the night. Sometimes I'd go days without sleeping.”

“Yeah, but you're not a super secret agent anymore seven-zero-seven,” you joke. “Ah! There they are!” Pulling on your panties, you also grab your bra and busy yourself with the hooks.

“Hah, no, thank God.” Luciel tilts his head towards you then, watching you search for the rest of your clothes. “Do you... Do you like being here, with me – us?”

While picking up your camisole and jeans, you give pause, thrown by his sudden question. “What do you mean? Of course I like being here, Luciel.”

“I hope so. I know after everything that happened a year ago you weren't left with much of a choice, since Rika's apartment wasn't safe and you couldn't go back to your old place. Ahh, I guess I just worry sometimes.”  
“I'm sorry if I ever gave you an impression that I didn't like being here. I really do, you know. After what happened I wouldn't have felt safe living anywhere else. I have peace of mind and you give that to me.” You sit down on the bed holding your clothes.

Luciel gives a warm smile.

“If anything,” you continue, “I worry that I've overstayed my welcome. I mean, it's been over a year already... I feel like I should have enough money for an apartment or something by now and move out...”

“No, it's okay – really, it's okay,” he says quickly. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“I know. You told me that before... but still, I feel guilty a lot of the time.”

“Don't worry about it. I appreciate you being here, especially since it seems to be helping Saeran so much with settling in. If you were gone, he'd... probably just be angry having to see my dumb face all day,” Luciel jokes. “I'm just the asshole brother who thought he was doing the right thing and is trying to make up for his mistakes... but you, you're a friend to him, and I think that's what he needs most right now.”

_A friend_ , you think, but then recall your shower-sex daydream from earlier. Luciel is right. Saeran does need a friend. A better friend. One that doesn't think of fucking him whenever his name is mentioned...

“Are you alright?” Luciel asks, obviously concerned by your silence.

“Oh – yeah I'm fine... I should get that shower.”

In a quick motion you slip off the bed – shirt, pants, and phone all bundled in your arms – and leave. Stepping into the dark hallway you quietly close the door to Luciel's room, careful not to wake Saeran if he's sleeping. It's an unnecessary attempt, you realize, because when you turn towards the bathroom you immediately see Saeran flipping off the light and walking out.

The two of you stare at each for what feels like an eternity.

“H-Hey...” You don't know which is worse: the silence or your awkward greeting.

He's surprised but he doesn't say anything.

That's actually worse.

You run past him into the bathroom, slam the door shut and lean against it, your heart beating in your throat. Sliding down to the floor, you take a moment to compose yourself. He just saw you leaving his brother's room in your underwear. Well, that's not terrible you suppose. Saeran probably caught on a while ago that you and Luciel occasionally have sex... You were standing in front of him in your underwear!

You bury your face into your extra clothes. God... You didn't want Saeran to see you that way, all startled, half naked, standing in the hallway in the middle of the night carrying your clothes like a weirdo. Why didn't you just put them on before leaving?

The bathroom was literally six steps away.

But he saw you!

“Ughhh.” Your groan is muffled by your shirt.

Summoning the strength to get up and turn on the shower, you let the water warm up, put down your camisole, pants, and phone, then strip off your remaining clothes before stepping in. The water soaks into your hair and beads down your back for a few minutes before you grab the shampoo. You're unable to stop thinking about the look he gave you in the hallway.

Next time you see Saeran, what should you do? Pretend like it didn't happen, apologize, or own up to it? _Hah, yeah sorry about that. Didn't think you'd be in the hallway to see me practically naked after sleeping with your brother!_

No... maybe you shouldn't say anything unless he mentions it.

You heave a sigh and start lathering your hair. There's no use dwelling on what happened.

Once finished with your shower you wrap up in a towel, gather your clothes and phone again, then stop at your room to dry off and get dressed. You throw on another camisole and a pair of polka-dot pajama shorts, leaving your damp hair alone. You're too tired to blow it dry.

It's nearly midnight by the time you meander down the hall towards the kitchen for a light snack. When you pass Luciel's room, you notice the door is open but he isn't there. He must have been serious about his second wind and decided to fix the bugs he mentioned earlier.

You turn on the lights over the kitchen island and start poking around the refrigerator and cabinets for some food. You're not sure why you bothered, though. If you wanted something other than Honey Buddha Chips and Ph.D Pepper you had to do the grocery shopping yourself, and its been two weeks since your last trip.

While you're browsing the cupboard you hear footsteps coming towards you. Saeran casually emerges from the shadowy hallway.

“Hey,” he says, and opens the refrigerator to grab a soda.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you reply. Well shit. You didn't think you'd see him again until the morning... Before you could stop yourself, you blurt out, “I'm uh, sorry for what happened back there, in the hallway I mean. I didn't think you'd be awake.”

Saeran pulls the tab to his soda and leans against the kitchen island facing you. “It's fine. I know you and Saeyoung are together.”

“Ah... oh, it's nothing like that. I mean, we're not... he's not my boyfriend or anything.”

“No?”

You shake your head. Though you've been living with Luciel for a year and occasionally sleeping with him, you didn't consider him your boyfriend and you hoped he didn't consider you his girlfriend either. It wasn't discussed at length or made official, at least. Luciel did try to bring it up a few times though, at which point you were able to redirect the conversation towards something less serious. You're not sure why you're hesitant to commit to a real relationship at this point, much less talk about it... Perhaps the current arrangement is good enough for now.

“So it's all just casual,” he says.

“Casual,” you repeat.

Saeran snickers at that.

“Why is that so funny?”

“No, nothing. I just thought for the longest time that you two were actually together or something. I don't know. I just assumed, since you're living here with us - oh, and fucking him.”

You frown, but he has a point. “Yeah well... we're not a couple, alright? I'd also rather not get into it.”

He takes another sip of soda, places the can on the counter, and then moves towards you. For an alarming second you think he's going to kiss you but instead Saeran reaches up into the cabinet for a bag of chips. Instead of moving back to the kitchen island though, he pauses. “Do you remember when I first contacted you through the messenger? I chose you. Out of everyone, I picked you out myself. Even if you hadn't done what I asked at the time, join the R.F.A. I mean, I would have taken you to be my assistant. You could have worked with me in that place. Sometimes I still wonder what it would have been like.”

His eyes are searching yours, but you look away. You're sure he'd see what you thought of him if given the chance. It also seems dangerous to let him reminisce about Mint Eye in this way. “That was a long time ago, Saeran... We're past that now.”

“Are we really though? You're still here,” he says. His tone is devious.

“I'm here because I want to help, that's all,” you reply, trying not to take the bait.

Though you wondered countless times why Saeran selected you of all people to infiltrate the R.F.A., you gave up looking for an answer when you realized it had the potential to do more harm than good. You speculated Saeran chose you for your naiveté (an accurate, but hard realization to accept) or because, if his plan backfired, you'd make an attractive partner for him. What traits he considered attractive and what original plans he had for you however still remain a mystery, and you weren't about to explore or confirm his reasons.

“Then be with me instead, like you were supposed to be in the beginning,” he continues softly.

His outright proposition surprises you, though you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a tantalizing offer. It's also not the first time he's made such an impulsive suggestion. In the beginning you brushed them off as a bad joke, but as time went on, you began wondering if Saeran has an ulterior motive for baiting you.

“No,” you tell him while shaking your head. Your voice escapes weaker than intended. “It isn't right. You should focus on getting better before considering that sort of thing...”

At that, he retreats back to the kitchen island. “I am getting better,” he says flatly.

“You are, I know you are, but why are you still avoiding Luciel? He wants to rebuild the relationship the two of you had, but that can't happen if you won't meet him halfway.”

Saeran leans against the counter to mull over your words. “I'm not ready for that yet.” You wait for him to elaborate but the details never come.

“Okay... I'm sure you need to do everything in your own time,” you say, trying to be understanding. “But it will be a huge step forward if you and Luciel can bridge the gap. He's just waiting for you to be ready.”

Saeran grabs his soda and takes another sip, seemingly disinterested with talking about his brother. To solidify your observation, Saeran changes the subject. “Did you know the R.F.A wants to host a party next month?”

“No, when did this happen?”

“In the chatroom about an hour ago. You should probably read the conversation for yourself since you'll be gathering guests again. Jaehee already recommended someone. Can't remember who though.”

You sigh. Another party to plan. The last one the R.F.A. held was a garden party four months ago in the spring, roughly around the same time Saeran was given permission to live at home and was subsequently discharged from the hospital. Though you spent weeks helping with the party preparations by securing guests, you did not attend the party itself. Luciel was adamant about staying home with his brother, which prompted your request to stay at home to watch both Luciel and Saeran. Though you tried to bury the painful memory away, you still considered the possibility that, if left alone again, Saeran would attempt suicide for a second time. To your (and Luciel's) great relief, he hasn't.

“I guess we'll be expected to go to this one,” Saeran comments as if hearing your thoughts. He doesn't seem very excited about the prospect.

“No one is going to force you to go if you're not ready. I'm sure Jumin and Jaehee will understand.”

He shrugs, takes another sip of his soda, picks up the bag of chips, and begins to walk away without a word.

“Goodnight,” you call, but you're only met with the sound of his closing door some seconds later.

 

 


	3. Complicated

*** 3 ***

 

“So tonight is the dinner with Jumin, huh?” Luciel lets out a long whistle. “So lucky. You're gonna get a taste of the good life! I'm a little jealous.”

The two of you are standing in front of your closet reviewing the dismal number of formal clothes you own. You have two pressed button down shirts, some skirts in various colors, and a loose pink chiffon dress better suited for a casual summer day trip rather than a business dinner with the heir to a major corporation. You hardly hear Luciel's comment because you're unable to concentrate when coming to an awful realization.

“I-I don't have anything,” you tell Luciel in disbelief. “I literally don't own a single outfit worth dining in at a fancy restaurant.”

“Nooo, that's not true – I mean, what about...” He rifles through your closet and pulls out the white button down top and black pencil skirt. “This doesn't seem bad, right? I mean it's nice and professional looking.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Give me a blazer and I'll look like a secretary. Pass.”

Luciel holds out the outfit to get a better look. “Ahhh, well... Maybe Jumin will like that. Though on second thought, better not. He'll send you back with paperwork to go through all evening. You'll be just like Jaehee.”

“Hah, right. If I was working for him, maybe it wouldn't be a terrible choice... but it just feels inappropriate for dinner.” You chew your lip nervously, debating on what would be worse: showing up wearing a sugary pink summer dress or walking in looking like the receptionist who forgot to change out of her work clothes. The latter at least implies a level of status, granted not a high level, but a standing in the professional world nonetheless.

Luciel returns the blouse and skirt to the closet. “I could always let you try on some of my disguises,” he offers jokingly. “I have plenty from my secret agent days.”

“Oh yeah? You got a cocktail dress I could fit into?” you muse.

“I may have one or two.” He chuckles and leans over to kiss your cheek. You smile briefly even though the gesture is off putting. It's a boyfriend kiss – a quick morsel of affection and appeasement, and it's significance made you uncomfortable.

_Bzzt. Bzzt_.

Luciel pats his pant's pocket and pulls out his phone. “Someone from the security team is calling me,” he mutters. “I'm sorry, I gotta go take this. Let me know if you want one of my dresses!”

He rushes out of the room to take his work call, presumably heading to his office to be in front of his computer, and leaves you alone in your bedroom to continue contemplating what to wear. It seems like an insignificant thing to get worked up over, but wearing appropriate attire feels important to someone like Jumin. You didn't want to give a bad impression considering this is the first time you'll be meeting with him one on one to discuss the upcoming party. Despite engaging in regular chit-chat in the messenger, having phone conversations, or meeting him briefly in person, you still feel intimidated and also concerned about sending the wrong message.

“Maybe this...” you mumble while tugging at a blue off-the-shoulder blouse. You only have a few hours left to decide before needing to get ready.

From beyond the bedroom you can hear what sounds like a knock echoing across the house. Footsteps follow. There's a short, indiscernible conversation. Rustling. You try to ignore what's going on until someone approaches your door.

“Luciel?”

“It's Saeran. Looks like you got a present,” he says. In his hands is a black A-line dress sheathed in plastic. The tag is still on the sleeve and an envelope is attached to the cover.

“Oh my god. A dress for tonight? But where did it come from..?”

Saeran shrugs. “Some big guy in a suit dropped it off. Said it was for you. Has to be someone associated with the R.F.A if they were able to get past my brother's security codes.”

You meet him and take the dress from his hands. “Thanks. This is so weird. I was just in here trying to figure out what to wear.”

You take a seat on your bed so you can read the card. To your surprise, Saeran does the same. He makes himself comfortable across from you and idly picks at the dress under the plastic, spinning the tag in his fingers to read the price and designer information.

While you busy yourself with opening the envelope, you discreetly admire him again, this time your eyes following the curve of his strong jaw to his lips. You imagine him looking up at you, realizing what you're considering, and in a sweeping motion he throws the dress to the floor while crawling towards you from across the bed. His lips meet yours hungrily and you topple backwards onto the sheets. Each kiss is an invitation for more and you needed it. You've been craving him for weeks. Your fingers run through his hair and you pull him even closer so you can feel his weight on top of you. He's between your legs. His tongue in your mouth. You gasp with delight as he pulls up your shirt and begins placing wet kisses across your collar, each one falling lower and lower towards your breasts. Then Saeran undoes your pants and suddenly they're on the floor, lace panties revealed and also discarded. A moan escapes your throat when his tongue slide against your clit. Your nails graze his scalp. He looks up from between your legs while savoring this part of you, those mint green eyes catching yours shamelessly watching –

“Are you going to read it?” he asks. Saeran is staring at you from across the bed, one corner of his mouth upturned in amusement.

He didn't know what you were just thinking... couldn't. Could he?

Your face is burning and you cross your legs, painfully aware of the dull ache building between them. “What? Oh, yeah, no I was... I am. So uh, this letter here.”

You pull the card from the envelope. It's a simple off-white, linen textured stationary, the front decorated with a gold foil border and elegant, swirling text that reads, 'You're Invited.' Inside is a note written in dense black ink. You read it aloud: “It is my wish that you wear this dress and matching heels to our dinner this evening. My driver will pick you up at six. Sincerely, Jumin Han.” For a moment you look around. “Matching heels?”

“They're in a box by the door,” Saeran informs you. “I forgot to mention that.”

“Oh.”

“He's very straight forward, isn't he, that Jumin.”

“I think he's always been that way. Practical. To the point -”

“Controlling,” Saeran adds.

“I suppose... At least I don't have to worry about what to wear now, though I find it a bit odd he went ahead and bought a dress and pair of shoes without knowing my size. I wonder if they actually fit.” A panicky thought hits. “Wait, oh god, what if they don't? There would be no time to return them.”

“Just try it on so you can stop worrying,” Saeran says irritably. “I'll go get the shoes for you.”

“Thanks.”

Saeran doesn't reply as he slips out your bedroom door.

Putting the card down, you pull the black dress from it's plastic sheath and lay it across your bed so you can undress. After unzipping the back you step into the skirt and tug it up, putting your arms through the long, lace-detailed sleeves. Reaching around the back, you fiddle with the zipper and only manage to get it up halfway. Despite this, you can tell it will fit perfectly. You also appreciate the modest design while standing in front of the full length mirror, twirling back and forth to see different angles. It's stylish, attractive and sleek.

Saeran knocks at your door, probably unsure if you're still changing.

“Come in,” you call.

“Here they are.” He sets the shoe box down on your bed.

“Thanks. Hey before you go, can you zip me up please? I can't reach it,” you ask while he's just about to leave. He obliges. As you lift your hair from your neck, you're also watching Saeran in the mirror. He slowly zips it up the rest of the way, being careful not to snag the fabric or any loose strands of hair.

You wish he'd press against you and start kissing up the side of your bare neck.

“It looks really good on you.” The remark is casual but it still manages to make your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks...”

Once again, you think about his lips on your neck, teeth grazing your throat, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, the other falling below the hem of the skirt for your thigh. A breath catches in your throat but the sound is overshadowed by Luciel reentering the room.

“Is that one of mine? You look great!”

In the mirror you see Saeran roll his eyes and step away to leave, clearly still not in the mood to deal with his brother. You didn't like watching him walk out the door but it's for the best. Any longer and you fear your imagination would have provided a false sense of mutual attraction and provoked you into doing something stupid, like actually trying to kiss Saeran, an action which has the potential of unhinging your self control. You try to hide any resounding disappointment by covering with a sweet smile while Luciel is distracted by his brother's exit.

“Nope, it isn't one of your costumes,” you say, grabbing his attention. “Jumin dropped it off, well, one of his guards did anyway. You think it looks okay though? I actually like it a lot.”

“Definitely,” Luciel says from behind you.

Still smiling, you turn towards him and reach up to trace the line of his jaw down to his lips while leaning in for a kiss. It's a slow burn when compared to your earlier fantasy with Saeran, but that's how Luciel is: he's a warm flame that just needs to be stoked and kindled before he'll do whatever you want... And he loves when you make requests in that silky voice of yours, each phrase punctuated with a breathy moan. You wonder how Saeran would kiss outside of your fantasies, if he would smolder like his brother or be something different.

Breaking away for a breath, you reach up and remove Luciel's glasses and toss them on the bed. Gold eyes instead of green. Red hair instead of platinum. These are the only differences between them you can visually see.

Closing your eyes, you sink into another kiss and let your imagination do the rest.

 

* * *

 

God... Is this really the kind of person you're becoming? Someone who is willing to exploit Luciel and his affections for your own guilty pleasures?

You take a sip of your red wine and rub your temples out of frustration. This isn't what you intended to happen.

From the very beginning Luciel caught your attention with his humor, kindness, and strange charms, but it didn't take long for his facade to crack, allowing you to witness the true person beneath guarded by brier and thorns. Every time you reached out to help you were cut by his harsh words, but this didn't deter you. Instead, it motivated and emboldened you to continue forward, and eventually Luciel's defenses dissolved and the two of you were free to work together unhindered by personal fears. Your affections for him steadily grew.

There's no question you were attracted to Luciel from the start. At the time you could even picture a romantic relationship with him someday, but when it was revealed Saeran was the hacker Unknown and Mint Eye collapsed, it sent shock waves throughout the entire R.F.A. Your feelings for Luciel were put on hold until the irreversible damage could be addressed and dealt with.

The first month was the hardest. After Saeran was admitted to the hospital as an inpatient, you and Luciel worked together tying up loose ends. In short: Luciel abandoned his position as a secret agent, updated his home security, and you moved in. (At the time you didn't ask many questions – everything moved so quickly – but looking back you can't help but wonder how Luciel managed to cut ties with his dangerous employers without lethal repercussions.) Regardless, the fallout left both of you exhausted and emotionally drained. Luciel sought comfort in you, and you sought comfort in Luciel. Living together made it easy to offer a kind word, a hug, or even a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't your intention for these things to lead to casual sex, just like it wasn't your intention to start falling for Saeran.

“Are you alright? It looks like you have a head ache.” Jumin places his glass down on the white linen table cloth and gives you a curious look. You realize you're still rubbing your temples. “Perhaps I can get you some medicine. Ah, no, you already started drinking. I'll tell our waitress to send a message to the kitchen to hurry our order so you can eat.”

“No, it's okay, Jumin. I'm alright. The pain is going away,” you lie. “But thank you for your concern. What were you saying before?”

He pauses as if to make sure you're okay before beginning again. “What I was saying, that's right... I've taken the time to compile a list of potential guests for you to reference in the coming weeks leading up to the party. Though the members are encouraged to continue making suggestions, I thought it would be prudent for you to have your own list, for this party and future fundraisers.”

Jumin hands you a black leather business portfolio from across the table, it's weight signifying it must be filled with a lot of detailed information. “You're very kind to do this, Jumin. Thank you.”

“I did not do this out of kindness, but rather to make things more efficient for when it comes to contacting and speaking with potential guests,” he explains. “Inside you'll find names, businesses, e-mails, phone numbers, and brief summaries of each guest. However, it isn't expected of you to contact every single person inside the portfolio. For this party's theme, I suggest using your best judgment when it comes to selecting attendees. I trust you also understand to keep this information confidential.”

“Of course,” you tell him. “Luciel's place is as safe as it gets.”

“Hmm, you may be right...” Jumin looks into his glass of wine as if considering something.

“What is it?”

“I apologize. No, it shouldn't be a problem.”

“What shouldn't be a problem? Is it me? I understand if you don't trust me with this information yet... We've known each other for a year but there are still–”

“No,” he sighs, cutting into your words. “No, this doesn't concern you, but Saeran.”

“Oh...” You see where he's going with this. “Jumin, I know Saeran went through a lot with his brother, then Mint Eye, Rika, those mind altering drugs – but he's not that person anymore. He won't betray us.”

Jumin swirls his drink, his dark eyes watching the red liquid. “Your confidence is striking... If you truly feel that way, then I will ease my concern. Regardless, I will still suggest this bit of advice: keep these files in a secure place.”

You tap the portfolio. “Of course. You can count on me.”

A rare smile crosses his lips.

The hum in the restaurant is made apparent during the break in conversation. Voices intermingle with the silvery clinking of utensils and the floating melody from the piano. Candles cast a dim, golden glow at every table. While taking another sip of wine, a question comes to you.

“Jumin, what is this party's theme? I don't think it's been mentioned yet.”

“You're right. Since the party is scheduled for the end of the month around Halloween, it will be an elegant costume party. I'd like you to mention this in your correspondence to our guests so they are made aware. Costumes are not mandatory, but encouraged. We will supply small masks for those who wish to keep it simple.”

“Sounds interesting.” You like the idea, your mind already buzzing with possible costumes.

“I'm sure it will provoke some amusement for our guests and create something of...” he pauses as if finding the right word, “...a _buzz_.”

You giggle. “I'm sure it will. I'm already looking forward to seeing all the costumes.”

He smiles at that too. “So, moving from the party... I wanted to ask – and I hope I'm not being too forward – how are things with you living at Luciel's home? You've been living alongside him for nearly, is it... a year?”

“Oh, yeah... It's fine – well, truthfully, I feel guilty for staying so long without, well, without being able to contribute much. It's been difficult finding a job in the area. Luciel has been covering my expenses and keeps persisting that he doesn't mind because I take care of other things, basically house work and driving Saeran to his appointments, but...”  
Jumin gives a curt nod, “...but you want to be financially independent and eventually find your own place again. I understand, and I believe you should. I also understand Luciel's wish to provide support. He seems to care a lot for you.”

You shift uncomfortably. “Yeah...”

“Typically I do not concern myself with such matters,” Jumin starts, “but it's a bit surprising you and Luciel have remained only friends.”

Only friends. Just friends with benefits.

“Yeah,” you repeat. “Well you know, it's a bit complicated.”

Jumin studies you a moment, trying to glean a more detailed answer from your posture. It reminds you of how Saeran stares sometimes. Eyes sharp. Head tilted slightly. You picture him sitting across from you in Jumin's place giving the same inquisitive expression, his skin set aglow by dim candlelight, his broad shoulders filling out the expensive pinstripe tailored suit, his neck bound with a black tie instead of his leather collar... and then you're mind is focusing on the tie, imagining your swift fingers undoing the knot and pulling on the satiny fabric. You watch it glide under the collar and slip from his neck. Saeran smirks as if daring you to continue stripping him, but your attention is diverted by someone pressing against you from behind. Luciel steals the black tie from your hand. Saeran spins you around to face his brother. You're pressed between them both as you're blindfolded.

“Complicated,” Jumin says then. His rich voice gently tugs you back to reality. “Yes, I imagine things can become such a way when a young woman is living with two men...”

 

 


	4. Fight

*** 4 ***

 

After bypassing the main gate's security system, you're standing in front of the door to Luciel's home trying to punch in the numeric code on the keypad beside it. You're a little wobbly on your heels, your fingers not entirely accurate over the keys, and your mind is struggling to remember the ten digit combination. Okay, so maybe the wine hit a little harder than you thought. It's been a while since you've had alcohol.

_Bzzt! Incorrect code, meow. Try again, meow._

“I swear to god,” you huff, and retype the numbers.

_Bzzt! Incorrect code, meow! Try again, meow!_

“Luciel! Just let me in!” You smack the door with your free hand while pressing your forehead to the metal surface. It's cool against your flushed face.

The house is silent on the other side of the door. Though the security cameras are watching diligently – some of them with red lights blinking in confirmation – it doesn't seem Luciel is by his computer monitor and is therefore unable to see the CCTV displaying your pathetic attempts to get inside. Odd. Luciel is almost always in front of his screens even past normal business hours. When he isn't at his desk, one of his phones would alert him if his cameras caught a human intruder skulking around the perimeter. Maybe he's in the bathroom...

No. Can't think about that. You've had to pee since Mr. Kim dropped you off at the gate.

Inspired by your full bladder, you focus on recalling the code and punch in another combination of numbers.

_Correct, meow!_

“Thank god,” you breathe while hearing the locks click back. You push against the door and spill into the foyer, turn on the light, and kick off your heels. It isn't until you're hanging up your coat that you hear Saeran yelling from the other room.

“I said I don't want to talk about it! Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone? What? You think everything will go away and be okay just because you're sorry? What am I supposed to do with all of your sorrys?”

The intensity of his voice is sobering. You drop the business portfolio to the floor and rush towards the living room.

“Saeran, I'm –”

“If you say you're sorry one more fucking time!”

“Saeran, please, I didn't mean to upset you. I thought, I just thought we could start talking about everything!” Luciel pleads. “Please just listen to me!”

“No. The problem is you're not listening to _me_.”

You enter just as one of your hardcover books hit Luciel square in the face. It makes a hard _thud_ , there's also a crack, and Luciel cries out from the blow, doubling down to the floor while gripping part of his face. Hints of blood are already seeping through his fingers.

“Oh my god! Luciel, are you okay?” you shout. The momentum you use to lurch towards him also causes you to careen just enough to hit your leg off the adjacent table. It scrapes across the wood floor and this is what pulls Saeran's attention to you.

“Yeah. Go. Make sure he's okay. Make sure _poor_ _Saeyoung_ is alright! He's always been the most important!”

You collapse to your knees next to Luciel to see the damage but he's covering his right eye with his hand and wincing. Nearby, his black and yellow stripe glasses lay broken on the floor. The sight floods you with adrenaline while your mind is two steps behind, sluggishly trying to process what just happened.

Without thinking, you snap, “Saeran! Enough, okay? _Enough_!” You shoot him an agitated look.

Saeran stands with his hands balled into fists and his body taut as if ready to throw something else. One thing you didn't expect though is the wounded look on his face. You hear him draw in a sharp, shaky breath, and then exhale. With apparently nothing left to say, he storms out and slams the door to his bedroom so hard the house shudders.

Everything falls silent and still.

“That... that didn't go as well as I'd hoped,” he says quietly.

“Jesus, Luciel... I was gone for what, maybe two hours? What the hell happened?” You pick up his broken glasses to return them. Luciel drops his right hand while gathering up the remaining pieces of his frames and instantly you see blood dripping down over his closed right eye and cheek. You wrinkle your nose.

“Is it bad?”

He's a bloody mess and you can't even tell where it's coming from.

“I... Ugh, okay, hang on. Let me clean this up...”

Coming back with a wet wash cloth, you wipe most of the blood away and dab at the gash you discover above his eyebrow. If the book's stiff spine hit any lower, Saeran could have easily damaged his brother's right eye or even broken his nose.

Gingerly wiping away some smeared blood around Luciel's jaw, you ask again, “You never answered me. Why did Saeran suddenly go off like that?”

Luciel heaves a sigh while staring down at his hands helplessly. “It's my fault. I pushed him too hard. I thought maybe I could get him to talk to me, talk about what I did, and my reasons behind it all. What happened, you know, actually have a conversation about it together... At first he ignored me, so I thought maybe that meant he'll let me say what I needed to say and listen. Clearly that was wrong. It just made him angry.”

“Oh, Luciel...” You shake your head. If you were home and Luciel tried talking with Saeran, you could have lent support or diffused a similar situation before it escalated into a physical attack. You've developed an acute sense of Saeran's body language and tone over the last few months through numerous conversations and outings, whereas Luciel has yet to establish a stable connection now that they're older.

“So after he heard enough of what I had to say, he just exploded and started yelling. Ahh... I'm an idiot... I think I just made things worse.”

After clearing away all the blood you realize the gash isn't as deep as you initially thought. This is good. No visit to the emergency room tonight for stitches, though knowing Luciel, he'd probably insist on stitching it up himself, drawing on the medical training from his secret agent days and using you as an assistant to oversee his work. The thought makes you queasy.

Despite the shallow depth of the cut, Luciel is already starting to bruise where the glasses pinched and his right eye is bloodshot from the impact. He'll be walking around with a nasty mark for the next week or so.

“I don't think you made things worse but just assume that next time Saeran ignores you, it isn't an opportunity to try and set things straight,” you advise.

“Yeah, okay.”

You pull back from Luciel to see if there's anything you missed, then manage a weak smile. “There. You should get a bandage on that to help stop the bleeding. Remember to put some antibiotic ointment on it first though, okay?”

Luciel finally meets your eye and grins. “My guardian angel is so good to me. What did I do in this terrible life of mine to deserve such unconditional kindness?”

He's embarrassing you again. It causes you to blush. “I'm... I'm just trying to help, Luciel.”

“I know. Thank you for taking care of me.” He pulls you into an unexpected hug, causing you to wobble on your knees and fall into his chest, one of your arms hugging him back while the other hangs loosely and grips the blood-stained wash cloth. His scent is a comforting mix of laundry detergent, fresh soap, and the warm, natural musk of his skin with an edge of something sweet, like sugar. It's the smell of home.

“No problem,” you say into his black hoodie, your words muffled by the fabric.

He laughs at that and releases you, then slips his broken glasses into his pocket. “I'm going to fix this,” he says, gesturing to his forehead, “then find my spare pair of glasses and get some work done I guess, and you probably want to change out of that dress. I'm sorry you had to walk in on all of that. I'll stay out of Saeran's way for a little while...”

The two of you stand. “Will you be alright? Do you need me to do anything?”

“Nah, I'll be fine. God Seven doesn't go down that easily,” he boasts. While mussing your hair, he adds, “But thanks for offering. I'll take it from here, angel.”

After Luciel leaves to patch his wound, you rinse the wash cloth in the sink, go to the bathroom (finally!), and strip off your black dress. Though Saeran's aggressive display in the living room sobered you enough to competently tend to Luciel's head wound, you're noticing it was only temporary: the world around you softens again, everything cast with a subtle rosy blur. The adrenaline and tension is also fading, leaving your muscles relaxed. You're surprised how long you've remained tipsy since leaving the restaurant and begin speculating the alcohol content of that wine.

Stepping into your usual pajamas – a pair of soft cotton shorts and camisole – you then fall backwards onto your bed and stare at the ceiling, tracing the shadowy shapes cast by your table lamp.

You're not tired. In fact, something is bothering you. It didn't seem right getting cozy and falling asleep when Saeran is probably stewing in his anger inside his bedroom right now.

“I should probably try and talk to him...” But you don't move. You wonder if he even wants to talk anymore tonight, or if it's even safe to see him. He did throw a book at Luciel's face with enough force to cut his skin and break his glasses after all.

No. Saeran wouldn't hurt you. Well, probably not. After Mint Eye, he's never made you feel unsafe.

You chew your lip while trying to decide.

You're not sure what solidifies your resolve, if it's your trust that Saeran will remain calm or if the wine provided enough courage to see him – either way you're getting off the bed, leaving your bedroom, and walking towards his door.

You knock three times and wait, listening. It's quiet.

_Knock. Knock._

“Saeran,” you call gently. “Hey, it's me. I just wanted to see if you're okay.”

Still nothing.

“Well.. if you feel like talking later, you can stop by my room alright?”

Footsteps approach, the door cracks open, and he moves away again.

You pause. “Saeran?”

“You can come in, alright?”

Accepting his invitation, you shyly enter and close the door behind you.

You've visited Saeran's bedroom before while performing weekly chores, only staying long enough to collect laundry or gather dishes for washing. His room is sparse, much like yours, with basic furnishings such as a low-frame bed; a nightstand decorated with a vase of dried yellow roses; a tall floor lamp radiating pale gold light; and various storage pieces like a wooden dresser and bare bookcase. The floor is a dusky wood laminate mostly covered by a patternless, ivory-colored rug. Unsorted clothes, most of which are borrowed from his brother, lay strewn across the floor or neatly piled and folded atop his dresser. His bed is covered with a thick, fluffy comforter and sheets, both pulled back and rumpled from last night's sleep, a sight which summons delicious daydreams but you successfully block them out. Now is not the time for temptations.

He takes a seat on the floor and leans against his bed, his elbows on his knees while he rubs the nape of his neck. His eyes are puffy, nose red, and his breath hitches every few seconds in convulsive gasps. Even his platinum hair, which usually falls in loose tendrils across his forehead, is smoothed back as if he'd been compulsively running his fingers through it.

You fight the urge to run over and hug him, cradling his head against your chest while you stroke his hair, telling him things will be alright, that Luciel is okay – there are no ill-feelings after what happened – and that he's safe. Instead, you err on the side of caution by sitting across from him on the rug, keeping your distance in case Saeran snaps again.

“So what do you want?”

“I wanted to check on you after what happened out there. Are you alright?” You lean towards him. “It looks like you've been crying.”

“So the fuck what.”

“Saeran...”

“How's Saeyoung's face?” he snarls. “I'm sure you cleaned him up well. Tended to his wounds like a good girlfriend.”

His agitation makes you uneasy, but you persist, “I'm not his girlfriend, but I did clean up the blood. You cut him pretty bad.”

“Couldn't have been that terrible. If he doesn't need stitches, he's fine.”

“Still, you shouldn't have done that. Luciel was only trying to –”

“I know what he was trying to do,” he says quietly, changing his tone. “I know. I know, I know, I know. I fucked up.”

“It wasn't good, but... yeah, you kind of did fuck up a little. You can't be throwing books at people every time you get mad,” you try to muse, but it falls flat.

Saeran hangs his head, his eyes wide and empty and staring at the floor. It's a familiar, haunting look, one you associate with Saeran's bad days when his depression devours his mind, causing him to linger about the house like a lost ghost left to observe everything from a distance, his eyes hollow and words stolen.

“He just makes me so goddamn angry still. Just looking at him – some days I want to grab him by the shoulders and scream in his face, tell him how much it hurt when he left. To be alone with that vile woman, that poor excuse of a mother. The way I saw it, he abandoned me and left me to die there.”

“I know...” you say softly. You heard the story before from both brothers, about how Saeran was always sick, how he was tied up, starved, dehydrated and beaten by their mother. Then later, Saeran fell victim to Rika's distorted idea of salvation composed of a cycle of fear and acceptance, all while consuming a cocktail of chemicals meant to influence and control him. Thinking about the trauma he and his brother endured makes your heart hurt. “Luciel knows how it effected you. I understand it must be annoying to hear him apologize over and over without being able to change anything, but he really means it. He'd take it all back if he could.”

When Saeran blinks, you notice tears dropping from his eyes. He turns his attention towards the ceiling and you can see more trail down the side of his face. “I wish... I didn't have to remember these things, watch them replay in my head over and over, to remember what it was like to feel so sick and weak. To be completely alone. It's always there in the back of my mind when I'm awake, and when I can sleep, I see it in nightmares. It all happened years ago but every time I see him, his stupid grin... I can't disconnect him from all that. He's just a reminder and sometimes that's just too much to deal with.”

You nod slowly. “Is that why you ignore him? Like... if you can ignore your brother you can also ignore all that residual pain for a time?”

Saeran wipes his nose on the sleeve of his sweater and sniffs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I can get that,” you sympathize. “But... I feel like at some point you'll need to face him in order to overcome that pain and move forward. You don't have to face things alone anymore either, you know.”

He closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a long breath. “Can we just not talk about this right now...? I'm suddenly not in the mood to play the role of the psyche patient again.”

“Oh... yeah sure, alright. Do you want me to go?”

You start to get up from the floor but he says, “No, not really. Thinking about all this... I'd rather just have someone here right now and, lucky you... you're the only other person in this house I can stand. So how was dinner with Jumin?”

You settle back down and cross your legs on the carpet, content to distract him with light conversation now that his rage dissipated. “Oh, not bad. Um, so we talked about the upcoming party, he gave me a reference list of guests, and then we just kind of caught up, I guess, until we could eat.”

“Is there a theme for the party yet?” Saeran looks at you then, his eyes still red but the tears gone.

“There is. Jumin said it will be an elegant costume party since it falls around Halloween. Dressing in full costume is optional, and masks will be offered to guests.”

“Masks?”

“Like the kind for a masquerade ball,” you explain. “Ones that cover half of your face. They can be lacy or silky or embroidered. I've already started thinking about costume ideas.”

“So you've decided to go.”

“I probably should. Honestly I'm curious to see what the parties are like,” you admit. “I didn't attend the garden party in the spring. Have you decided if you're going yet?”

Saeran rolls up the sleeves to his argyle sweater while replying, “I don't know. I haven't given it much thought. How was the food at the restaurant?”

“ _So_ good,” you tell him. “I'm pretty sure I ate the best and most expensive steak I'm ever going to eat in my life. The wine was also okay, but I prefer white over red.”

“You had wine too, huh? Yeah, figured. You're swaying a bit.”

He's right. You consciously straighten your posture. “Hah... I didn't even realize. I drank a little over my normal amount but I'm alright.”

He shakes his head in a _tsk tsk_ sort of way. “Are you though? Come on, stand up and try to balance on one foot,” he dares.

You laugh. “You're kidding, right?”

“Nope, try it. I want to see what a 'little over your normal amount' is.”

“Ugh, okay, fine,” you pout, though you'll willingly play along if it makes him happy.

While you stand, Saeran moves up to his bed to watch. Already you teeter and almost lose your footing. He snickers and you shush him. “That doesn't count.”

“Uh huh.” Saeran tries to restrain his amusement.

Your head is light and your limbs are too relaxed. There's a high probability you'll fall flat on your face but you go ahead anyway, stretching out your arms for balance while lifting one leg off the floor. For a few seconds you maintain the stance until you speak.

“Hah! See?” As the words fall from your mouth, so goes the rest of you. In seconds, you sway backwards too far and overcompensate by jolting forward while dropping your other leg for stability, arms spinning trying to regain equilibrium. The momentum is too strong. You're going down but Saeran catches you, your face smacking into his chest.

“That was awful, but I've seen much worse.” He steadies you in front of him and gently brushes back a loose lock of hair from your forehead. “I don't ever want to see you that way. You should drink some water and get to bed.”

He must be referring to his mother. A wave of guilt crashes over you then for being tipsy in front of Saeran. You didn't even consider how your unbalanced coordination or the smell of alcohol would effect him, if these things would dredge up those horrendous childhood memories all because of your thoughtlessness.

Overcome with shame, you whisper, “I'm sorry,” and wrap your arms around him, resting your face against his chest. You breathe in the scent of detergent, soap, and his skin. So similar to Luciel, it's easy projecting it's associations onto his brother: comfort, security, tranquility, warmth, affection, and pleasure.

Saeran's heartbeat accelerates. It takes him a moment before embracing you too but when he does, he clings tightly, reluctant to let you go.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I initially started this story thinking it would be 5 or 6 chapters long, but it's turning into a project ; v ;'' Oops. Thanks for the comments, kudos, and subs!


	5. Hit and Run

 

*** 5 ***

> _You have entered the chatroom._
> 
> **ZEN** : Hey there, beautiful ~
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Hey!
> 
> **You** : Oh good! You guys are here lol
> 
> **ZEN** : Everything okay?
> 
> **You** : Yeah, everything's fine ~ I'm just trying to pass time while waiting for Saeran's appointment to be over. I... I read all the magazines here ; ; So what are you two doing?
> 
> **ZEN** : I just got back from early rehearsal! I'm having a beer to unwind before practicing lines. How long are Saeran's appointments that you've read all the magazines already? ;;
> 
> **You** : Ah... well each session lasts about an hour and I've been taking him since the beginning of summer. I keep going through the new ones too quickly lol
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Wowow all of the magazines?! I could give you my homework to do when you're there lol I have a ton to catch up on...
> 
> **ZEN** : She's not going to want to do your homework... And aren't you in class right now, Yoosung? I told you before you should probably get off your phone.
> 
> **You** : You're in class? Shouldn't you be paying attention? ^^;
> 
> **Yoosung★** : … It's fine. I'm in the back. The professor can't see me lololol
> 
> **ZEN** : Dude. That isn't a reason to not pay attention... Ugh, anyway... How are thing with Saeran and Seven? They're still being good to you, right?
> 
> **You** : Things are fine. Well... something did happen over the weekend.
> 
> **ZEN** : What? To you?!
> 
> **Yoosung★** : What happened? :0
> 
> **You** : Not to me! No, um, Saeran and Luciel had a fight. Saeran threw a book at his brother's face and cut him on the forehead. Everything's fine though!
> 
> **Yoosung★** : What?! Saeran can be so scary ; ; I hope Seven is okay!
> 
> **ZEN** : Do you need me over there?! I'll come over!
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Didn't she say this happened over the weekend lol
> 
> **You** : Oh! No Zen, it's fine... really! Luciel is okay and the cut is healing. Saeran just lost his temper... though I'm not saying what he did was acceptable.
> 
> **ZEN** : =__=;; I still don't like you living over there with those two... A beautiful girl shouldn't be living alongside wolves... especially if one has a temper.
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Wolves?! What does that even mean lol
> 
> **You** : I don't have much of a choice ^^; And they're not wolves...
> 
> **ZEN** : I'm sure that trust fund kid could hook you up with a place. Or you could just stay with me!
> 
> **Yoosung★** : o v o What's the difference if she lives with two guys or one guy?
> 
> **You** : I'd like to know too lol
> 
> **ZEN** : … Well, I mean, at least I'd know for sure if you're safe! I have a hard time trusting those two... Seven with his crazy antics and Saeran who just seems unstable. I don't want you getting hurt.
> 
> **You** : I appreciate your concern, Zen, but it's alright. Luciel really isn't as crazy in person as he is online lol He also works most days. And Saeran isn't as scary as he sounds. Usually he's pretty quiet.
> 
> **ZEN** : If you say so;; But if either of them lays a hand on you, just let me know and I'll be right there.
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Mother-hen-Zen at it again! Lololol
> 
> **ZEN** : What's that supposed to mean?!
> 
> **You** : I think Yoosung is saying you're being over protective lol
> 
> **ZEN** : hey... come on...
> 
> **Yoosung★** : xD
> 
> **You** : Don't worry about me ^^ But if anything does happen, you'll be the first person I call, Zen.
> 
> **ZEN** : Okay good... Btw aren't you going to see the venue with Jaehee this afternoon? That's today, right?
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Venue? o__O
> 
> **ZEN** : For the costume party!
> 
> **You** : Yup! Saeran and I will go right after his appointment is over and meet Jaehee there. It sounds nice from what she told me.
> 
> **Yoosung★** : It probably is since Jumin is our party coordinator and all!
> 
> **ZEN** : You're not wrong... but we don't need such luxurious venues when the whole point is to raise money for charities. I still think it sends out the wrong message.
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Aw what? No way! It's great! Remember the garden party last spring? That place was huge and I had sooo much food I thought I was going to die lol
> 
> **ZEN** : Yeah I remember that party... You almost puked on me u___u Still though, it seems like that jerk just wants to show off or something.
> 
> **You** : I don't think that's Jumin's intention ^^; But I see where you're coming from... I'm sure he just wants a nice location that will attract guests, which can only help us reach our fundraising goals ~
> 
> **ZEN** : I guess... No, you're right. =__=; How are you doing with collecting guests btw? I hope you're not feeling overwhelmed.
> 
> **You** : Nothing I can't handle haha It's going well! We should have plenty of guests by the end of the month. Everyone seems really into the theme.
> 
> **Yoosung★** : That's great but...
> 
> **ZEN** : But?
> 
> **Yoosung★** : But...
> 
> **ZEN** : Well? Are you going to tell us? =__=;;
> 
> **Yoosung★** : But... I didn't figure out my costume yet! ; ;!! Did anyone else decide what they're wearing?
> 
> **You** : No... but we have time! The party isn't for a couple weeks yet. Besides, even if you can't figure something out, we'll be passing out masks.
> 
> **Yoosung★** : That's boring :c I don't want a plain old mask. I want to be something scary lol
> 
> **ZEN** : Hey, it's an elegant costume party, remember?
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Oh yeah... Well, I can still be scary and elegant can't I? Omg... what if I dress up as my LOLOL character?! My avatar looks pretty cool now that they released the new Halloween themes!
> 
> **ZEN** : Dude;; That's not... No.
> 
> **You** : lol I don't know if you can do that... better run it by Jumin first?
> 
> **Yoosung★** : ; ;
> 
> **You** : So Zen, did you eat yet? You said you're having a beer after rehearsal today but did you get anything for lunch?
> 
> **ZEN** : No... this beer counts as my lunch lmao I don't have food at my place... Between practice, working out, and sleep, I always forget to go to the grocery store. It's a lot of work maintaining this perfect body ;)
> 
> **You** : One of these days I need to come over and cook you an actual meal. I swear you're always eating quick snacks or having a beer for food... ; v ;''
> 
> **ZEN** : What? Noo, you don't have to do that for me lol Though, it isn't a bad idea. I haven't seen your lovely face for quite some time ~ <3
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Aw, what about me? I miss homemade food too T___T
> 
> **ZEN** : So rude;;
> 
> **You** : You can come too, Yoosung! I can make dinner for both of you :)
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Really?!
> 
> **ZEN** : She's probably just kidding. You don't have to actually do that lol
> 
> **You** : Nah, I want to, and you're right – we haven't seen each other in a while! You've been so busy with the new production and Yoosung has been busy with schoolwork. It would be nice to get together sometime before the party. So how about it, Zen? Can we have dinner at your place ?
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! ~ Zen, say yes!
> 
> **ZEN** : When a beautiful girl offers to cook me dinner, how can I refuse? It will have to be on the following weekend though... I'm already scheduled to work this weekend;;
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Next Saturday would be perfect *___*
> 
> **You** : I can do that. Next Saturday it is! I'll pick up all the ingredients beforehand so you won't have to worry about anything.
> 
> **ZEN** : Man, I don't know what to say lol Thank you! I'm already looking forward to it <3
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Me too! Omg... real food. It's been so long. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. T___T
> 
> **You** : No problem ^^ It'll be fun! Oh, it looks like Saeran's appointment is over. He's at the check-out desk now.
> 
> **ZEN** : Okay ~ I should probably start going over my lines anyway. Bye!
> 
> **Yoosung★** : Tell us about the new venue later! Byeeee!
> 
> **You** : I will ~ ttyl

You exit the chatroom just as Saeran reaches you. He's dressed warmly today, choosing to layer his black leather jacket over a burgundy hoodie and T-shirt. It's a better choice than what you picked out: a knit sweater tunic, a pair of black leggings and boots. Though it's cozy for lounging around indoors, it doesn't quite hold up to the biting chill accompanying the wind this afternoon.

“Ready to go?” you ask while hopping up from your seat.

Saeran nods, mumbling 'yeah.' His expression is blank, his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets.

It's a ghost day. Before the appointment, Saeran was aimlessly drifting around the house as if searching for something. You caught him peering into cabinets or the refrigerator for food, browsing your book collection in the living room, or flipping through television channels every few seconds, but he didn't eat, drink, read, or watch anything. When it was finally time to leave, you found him in his bedroom taking an afternoon nap underneath the overcast sun glow. You guessed the previous sleepless nights finally caught up to him, which made it even harder to bring yourself to gently rouse him from his nap. When he awoke you noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes.

The two of you walk out of the building and you see the marks are still there, underscoring his cool green eyes. For a moment, you seriously consider skipping the meeting with Jaehee this afternoon to go back home with Saeran, the two of you retreating to his room and cuddling up underneath heavy blankets to watch lame movies. You'd hold him, running your hand through his hair, or he'd hold you, his fingers stroking your arm. When the movie becomes dull, Saeran's hand would wander over other parts of you, perhaps your cheek, the slope of your neck, along your collar bones or over your breasts, trailing down your side and following the dip of your hips to your panties. Gently. Teasingly. His fingertips never coming close enough where you wanted them to be. You'd ache for his touch, but part of the fun is in the anticipation, the desire, regardless of how much it would drive you crazy. And it would, stirring a greedy need for him to be rough with you. Then, he'd show you mercy by...

Yeah, like that would happen.

A sharp gust of wind cuts across the parking lot, tossing fallen leaves over the pavement, whipping your hair back, and cooling your skin. You shiver, allowing the cold air to whisk away the dream to the gray clouds above.

You can't go home. You have an obligation to see Jaehee this afternoon and be there while she reviews the venue. Besides, even if you did leave, it isn't like your fantasy is some sexy premonition waiting to happen. Luciel is working – most likely at the home office – and Saeran is exhausted from another depressive episode despite taking antidepressants.

While unlocking the car and opening the door, you pause. “Saeran... Are you feeling okay to check this place out with me and Jaehee? You don't have to go. I can always drop you at home so you can get some sleep.”

He looks at you from across the car while pulling a cigarette from his pack, then tucks it back inside his jacket. “I'm fine. Let's just go.”

Without arguing, you settle into the driver's seat, start the engine, and input the address into your phone's GPS. While the route is calculating and the engine warms up, Saeran lets down the window and clicks his lighter for a flame. The pungent white smoke fills the car before lazily drifting out the window.

The smell of cigarettes always made your nose tingle as if you're about to sneeze. Today is no different. You rub your nose to rid the sensation, and Saeran tries to dispel the lingering wisps by waving his hand through them.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I know you don't like this...”

You pull out from the parking lot and start on your way to the meeting. According to your phone, the place is on the outskirts of the city limit and shouldn't take too long to reach. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes depending on traffic.

You turn on the radio to some pop station, leaving the volume down low enough for conversation. Cold air swirls through the car from Saeran's open window. Most of the cigarette smoke is gone, but you still catch the occasional whiff of it whenever he exhales.

“So what do you do when you can't sleep?” he asks.

“Hmm, I don't know,” you start, trying to think of the last time you've experienced a bout of minor insomnia. “Stereotypical things I guess... like make a hot cup of tea, read a book, or listen to music. You've been having trouble sleeping these past few nights, right?”

Saeran takes another long drag off his cigarette then flicks the ash out the window. “Mmhmm. How'd you guess?” he replies in a deadpan tone.

“When things get bad, you can't sleep,” you tell him. Saeran's moods seem cyclical. There are times when he has good days or weeks, then he declines into the bad ones. The decline can be jarringly fast, or spread out over the course of a few days. “Have you tried reading or listening to music when you can't sleep?”

“Yeah, but it's hard to stay interested. If I try to focus on anything my mind just goes numb. Words get all blurry from staring too long. Music just sounds like static and I get stuck inside my head. Reality doesn't feel... real sometimes.” He rubs his eyes. “This probably sounds stupid. I'm just so fucking tired.”

As you slow down at a red light, small droplets of rain begin showing on the windshield. “I can still take you home,” you offer, turning to him, “so you can at least try to sleep.”

Saeran flicks his cigarette butt out the window and puts it up as the rain intensifies. “It wouldn't help even if you did. I'd rather be with you, anyway.”

Somewhere from behind a car honks, startling you. You didn't realize the light already turned green. As you continue forward, the GPS provides direction in it's monotonous, electronic voice.

“Why would you rather be with me?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“The funny thing about being abandoned – it makes you not want to be left alone ever again,” he says, then sighs. “Besides, you act like you give a shit about me, and that's kinda nice.”

“I don't _act_ like I give a shit. I really do care about you, you know. You and Luciel both.”

Saeran is quiet for a few moments. You hear the low, catchy beat of this month's top musical hit playing on the radio as the rain falls harder, pooling on the streets and rushing towards the gutters. You slow down for another red light.

“I don't know why you care about me, but I like it,” he replies. “I'd just prefer to have you all to myself.”

When you glance over at Saeran to respond, that's when the car hits from behind.

_BANG_!

You and Saeran jerk forward towards the dash while the entire car shakes and skids about a foot ahead, barely missing the BMUU's bumper in front of you. Then the light turns green, cars begin to move forward, and the person behind you changes lanes and speeds off. Underneath the sheet of rain you can barely make out a license plate, only noting it's a dark sedan.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many Saeran scenes because I'm biased... I'll work on more stuff with Luciel, I promise x u x;


	6. Second Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this month's inactivity brought on by personal issues & the holidays ~ I hope you've all been well :)

*** 6 ***

 

Unbelievable.

You're pulled over in a grocery store parking lot trying to calm your nerves. While your heart is racing from the accident, Saeran's words keep repeating over and over inside your head.

_I'd just prefer to have you all to myself._

Like you needed anymore fodder for your fantasies...

Though you've managed to brush off his impulsive remarks before – often viewing them as a trap meant to ensnare you and hurt Luciel in the process – they're becoming increasingly difficult to ignore regardless of intention. You're tempted to take the bait, to see what you get in return. Could they be sincere? Saeran's already manipulated you once before under the guise of Unknown, so it's also plausible he could be doing it again...

No.

No... you can't worry about this right now.

Instead you pull out your phone and begin texting Luciel as Saeran fumbles through his pockets looking for his cigarette pack and lighter.

 

> **You** : Hey so uh, funny story.
> 
> **You** : Saeran and I were just part of a hit and run.
> 
> **You** : We're okay though! Nothing serious. Just a fender bender.
> 
> **You** : But the asshole just drove off.

 

As the sharp smoke returns, you rub your nose to ward off a sneeze. “I'm going to check and make sure we still have a bumper,” you tell Saeran.

He nods without looking at you, the cigarette shaking between his jittery fingers. The crash must have rattled him. No surprise. You're trembling too.

The rain dissipates enough to allow you to check the bumper without getting soaked, and you already see the damage when you reach the fender. Broken tail light. Huge dent. Scraped paint. Your trunk probably won't open anymore either. Awesome.

You feel your phone vibrate with Luciel's response.

 

> **707** : I wouldn't call that a funny story. Maybe a mystery! Thriller!
> 
> **707** : Give me any information you can and I'll track this person down!!
> 
> **You** : I really don't have a good description of the car...
> 
> **You** : It was a dark sedan with (now) front end damage. That's all ; ;
> 
> **707** : Hard mode ~ Challenge accepted! ✰ ✰ ✰
> 
> **You** : Good luck. I don't think you'll get anything from that lol
> 
> **707** : Probably not...
> 
> **707** : B
> 
> **707** : U
> 
> **707** : T
> 
> **707** : Most importantly I'm so glad you and my brother are safe!
> 
> **707** : Your powers as a guardian angel are amazing!
> 
> **You** : ^^; But I don't have any powers...
> 
> **707** : So humble!
> 
> **707** : So cute!
> 
> **707** : * u *

 

You heave a sigh and smile. Luciel's texts always manage to cheer you up. During the first few days when you joined the R.F.A chatrooms he was your favorite to talk to, your heart fluttering when you saw _707 has entered_. His jokes, stories, and flurry of energetic words made you forget about your previously dull life and the questionable actions that lead you to Rika's apartment, instead allowing you to enjoy and appreciate the opportunity before the bomb. Before the secrets. Before Mint Eye.

As you're ready to type a reply, you glimpse the time. You have five minutes to get to the scheduled meeting with Jaehee!

 

> **You** : So late! I gotta go! ; A ;

 

* * *

“A hit and run?” Jaehee exclaims. “Are you two alright?”

Inside the foyer of a western-style mansion, you and Saeran shake off the rainwater from your clothes while Jaehee frets from behind her clipboard, unsure what to do with the news.

“Did you see the plate number? We can call the police to report it,” she suggests while straightening her glasses.

You smooth over your damp hair and make a mental note to keep an umbrella in your car from now on. Saeran brushes back his water-stained hood, which kept him relatively dry when the two of you darted from the car to the doors as the autumn shower escalated into a thunderstorm.

“There's no point... I didn't see the license plate because of all the rain. It happened so fast, but we're okay at least and my car isn't totaled. I just can't believe they left like that!”

“Me either, but I've heard of it happening to others. So irresponsible...” She sighs. “I'm so sorry. It's all because you were coming to meet me here... I will speak with Mr. Han to compensate you for the trouble. Are you sure you're not hurt or anything? Saeran looks a bit pale.” Jaehee turns to him. “Are you feeling sick?”

“Something like that,” he mutters.

“He just hasn't been sleeping well lately,” you supply more politely.

Jaehee's honey-colored eyes look from Saeran, to you, then back to Saeran. “Well, alright. If either of you need to rest, please feel free to do so. You're invited to take the tour alongside of me, but it's optional. I thought reviewing the place yourself would help when you correspond with guests, though. They often have questions about the location, though I'm sure you know that after helping with the garden party last spring.”

“Thanks, Jaehee. If you don't mind, we'll follow behind. We don't want to slow you down.”

She nods, then pulls the pen from her clipboard as if readying to take notes. “Alright. I'll go speak with the manager so we can get started.”

Jaehee walks through the alabaster column doorway towards the front desk, her heels clicking across the glossy ceramic-tile floor. You and Saeran follow.

The entrance hall is awash in pale natural light offset by the warm radiance of the chandelier above. Heavy rain falls against the tall arched windows creating a whisper of white noise as a peaceful backdrop to the echoing footfalls, light conversation, and laughter of guests from the seating area. The second floor balcony wraps along the room and provides curious onlookers a chance to observe those below at reception.

A woman in a blazer and pressed slacks emerges from behind the desk, a smile pinned to her face as she comes forward to shake Jaehee's hand. Introductions are made. A brief background of the mansion is provided. Then the four of you are walking towards the east wing to begin the tour. You and Saeran lag behind to review the venue without commentary but he's walking slowly, disoriented.

“Hey, are you alright? Seriously?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the hallway while he shambles up to your side. He's really pale, his eyes unfocused. Something is wrong.

“I'm alright,” he insists.

“You're lying.”

Saeran glares at you, but it lacks it's usual edge.

“I'm... f-fine.” His eyes blink shut and he's dropping to the floor. You instinctively grab him before he collapses completely, his full weight causing your knees to buckle.

He's too much to hold.

You fall on your back, cracking your head off the hard tile. A jolt of pain hits and transforms into a dull, fiery throb.

“Saeran?” you call breathlessly, trying to shake him awake. You feel his heartbeat against your chest and his hot breath along your neck, sensations that are both electrifying and distressing. It causes you to panic. “Wake up!”

You crane your neck to look down the hall for help but Jaehee and the manager already moved out of sight. Just when you consider yelling for an employee, Saeran stirs, mumbling something indiscernible into your hair.

Your heart races as he begins to move, his hands brushing against your body while his legs tangle with yours in search for the floor. Saeran lifts away, weakly at first, then pauses over you as if finding his remaining strength.

When his eyes focus on yours, his breath hitches – a sound you've become intimately familiar with inside your fantasies.

If he didn't move soon you're certain your heart would explode.

He finally sits back and rubs his forehead. “Well fuck me...” he says under his breath.

Likewise.

You sit up, feeling dizzy and lightheaded from not just the fall. “Are you going to stop lying to me?” you scold more frantically than intended. This isn't a good day for your nerves.

Despite fainting only a minute ago, Saeran manages a hollow laugh. “I think I need to lay down.”

“You're damn right you do!” you shout, still flustered. “C-Come on, let's take you to the lobby or something. They have a place where you can rest.”

* * *

You never really did get to walk around the mansion today, not after Saeran passed out and you helped him into the lobby where a concerned employee brought him a bottle of juice and packet of crackers, hoping that perhaps some food and vitamins would help stabilize his system. He did in fact return to normal after rest, food, and drink, the color returning to his skin and his movements less disoriented, but he was still exhausted from lack of sleep.

On the way home, Saeran fell asleep in your car. Once again you were guiltily shaking him awake, tugging at his leather jacket and calling his name softly, letting him know you both arrived and he should go upstairs to bed. You helped him out of the car, afraid he'd stumble and fall like he did at the venue this afternoon, but your concern just made him irritable.

“I don't need your help to walk!”

“I didn't hear you complaining earlier after you fainted!” you countered, equally annoyed.

The two of you stared daggers at one another in Luciel's garage. Then he looked away and began walking towards the door. You followed, giving up on offering any physical support but watched him cautiously all the way to his room where he entered, shut the door, and stayed for the rest of the evening.

It's now about nine-o'clock at night and you're sitting on the couch with Luciel watching some terrible foreign horror movie, the kind where a group of sex-crazed teenagers get picked off by the murderer one-by-one, but not without a lot of gratuitous blood and guts, and bad acting. It was fun at first, then after twenty minutes your interest dwindled and you began answering e-mails concerning the party. Afterwards, you opened up the messenger to see if there's anyone on. It's been oddly silent since you got back from the meeting with Jaehee.

Luciel peers down at your phone curiously, but doesn't say anything. Instead he pops another chip in his mouth and wraps an arm around your shoulder. You lean back against his side, contented by his warmth. It's been a long day and you craved a little affection.

 

> _You have entered the chatroom_.
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : I can't believe this...
> 
> **Jumin Han** : Oh, she's here. Good evening ~
> 
> **You** : Hello, Jumin and Jaehee. What's going on?
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : What timing! Mr. Han, tell her.
> 
> **Jumin Han** : It seems a very strange coincidence happened today...
> 
> **You** : What do you mean?
> 
> **Jumin Han** : Jaehee tells me you were rear-ended by a car earlier this afternoon. Is that correct?
> 
> **You** : Yeah... and the jerk just drove off v A v
> 
> **You** : I already made an appointment with the mechanic tomorrow morning to get an estimate on the damage...
> 
> **Jumin Han** : I see. It seems you were the person I hit, then.
> 
> **You** : What..?
> 
> _ZEN has entered the chatroom_.
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : Mr. Han caused the accident and he'll be reimbursing you for the damages, isn't that right?
> 
> **Jumin Han** : Of course.
> 
> **ZEN** : Accident? What accident?
> 
> **You** : You're the one who hit me?! Omg...
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : Zen, hello.
> 
> **You** : Hi Zen... Saeran and I were rear-ended today and apparently it was Jumin??
> 
> **ZEN** : oh my god. Are you okay? ; ;
> 
> **You** : We're fine.
> 
> **You** : But... Jumin, I thought your driver takes you everywhere? Why were you... I'm sorry, but do you even have your license?
> 
> **Jumin Han** : . . .
> 
> **Jumin Han** : My maid called to tell me Elizabeth the 3rd was acting uncharacteristically strange this afternoon.
> 
> **Jumin Han** : She wasn't eating her food, and salmon filet is her favorite.
> 
> **ZEN** : Are you kidding me...
> 
> **Jumin Han** : I took one of the company cars to rush home right away to check on her.
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : Mr. Han! You could have seriously hurt someone ; ;
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : You're not experienced enough to drive, let alone in the weather we had today!
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : What if she and Saeran got hurt?
> 
> **ZEN** : All this because your furball wasn't eating it's food?
> 
> **ZEN** :Really?
> 
> **Jumin Han** : . . .
> 
> **Jumin Han** : I apologize for any distress I have caused you and Saeran.
> 
> **Jumin Han** : The car began to skid on its own and I tried my best to regain control.
> 
> **ZEN** : So you hydroplaned into them.
> 
> **Jumin Han** : Yes. That's it.
> 
> **You** : Jumin...
> 
> **You** : It's... okay. We weren't hurt, but you can't just leave after hitting someone!
> 
> **ZEN** : And he just left?! Dude... how could you be so heartless?
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : Really... u___u

 

Luciel kisses the top of your head and begins lightly stroking your arm. A shiver runs through you at his touch.

The tangle of anxiety you've been wrapped in all afternoon in finally unraveling and melting away after finding out the mysterious driver was none other than Jumin. Somehow it makes the incident less troublesome – funny, even, considering the only casualties in the situation was your ten-year-old car and one of C & R's sedans.

 

> **You** : Well... at least I know who did it now. Silver lining?
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : I suppose you're right in that regard...
> 
> **You** : How is Elizabeth the 3rd anyway? Is she alright?
> 
> **ZEN** : I can't believe you're concerned for that cat...
> 
> **ZEN** : Even.. even after what he did T ▽ T
> 
> **Jumin Han** : She's much better this evening and ate all of her dinner ~
> 
> **Jumin Han** : Flaked salmon and seasoned chicken on a bed of white rice, potato and garnished with parsley ~
> 
> **Jaehee Kang** : That's better than what I had for lunch today... hah... hahhahah
> 
> **ZEN** : Sounds like you took your cat out on a date at some fancy restaurant...
> 
> **You** : That's cat food?! It's making me hungry;;

 

As if on cue, your stomach releases a long, low growl.

“Whoa, was that you?” Luciel asks.

Embarrassed, you grab at your stomach as if trying to muffle the sounds. “N-No!” But your body betrays you. Another growl erupts during a quiet moment in the movie.

“It is you!”

“Nuh uh!” you joke back and start giggling. This only entices Luciel to pull at your arms.

“You're such a liar. Move your hands! Let's hear it!”

You drop your phone to the floor while fending off Luciel, still giggling and wriggling from his prying fingers. When he can't pull your hands away, he attempts to tickle your sides. You jump each time he hits that sensitive spot.

“Luciel!” you squeak between gasps. “No fair!” You're stuck between his arms, your back against him while he ensues his torture.

“Just admit it!”

You're laughing in punctuated breaths, tears at the corner of your eyes. You kick your feet and try to roll from his grasp but to no avail. “Stop! Oh my god... stop!”

Luciel listens to your demand.

Relief!

You wait a few moments to catch your breath before you spin around on the couch and start to prod at his waist for revenge. “Let's see how you like it!”

“H-Hey!”

You climb onto his lap to pin him to the couch, your hands finding their way beneath his black hoodie and shirt. Luciel tries hold you back but you're persistent, the two of you getting lost in a fit of laughter.

“I... I – ah! I give... up! Done! ...I'm done!” Luciel begs breathlessly. “You win! You're superior!”

“I'm what?” you tease.

“Superior! The best! I bow to your greatness!” he continues while panting. His spare glasses are askew on his bruised face. “My angel wins!”

You girlishly bring your hands to your face and play along. “That nickname! My one weakness! I've been immobilized by love!”

“Huh?! No way! In a strange turn of events, Seven-Zero-Seven uses Take Down!” Luciel sweeps you sideways and you fall on your back, sinking into the couch cushions as he climbs over you and kisses your face repeatedly.

“Critical hit! But Seven-Zero-Seven is hit with recoil!”

During his barrage of affection, you catch his lips and with a slip of your tongue you beckon him forward for more. His lips curl into a smile against yours and he kisses back innocently before giving in. You coax him with your hands, tongue, and teeth, each movement causing Luciel's control to unravel. He becomes hungrier. Greedier. His hand wanders towards the hem of your shirt and slides underneath searching for skin. You welcome his immodest touch.

In moments like these, it's easy to believe you and Luciel should be together. There's a sort of intimacy in familiarity, compatibility in personality, and invaluable comfort in security, qualities that should fill you up and make you whole, and yet a part of you still feels hollow. There's something missing. A piece without a name. A feeling without accurate description. You and Luciel appear like a perfect formula on paper and yet when put into action, the chemical result is incomplete...

You pull Luciel closer as if to smother these thoughts. Then your mind wanders to Saeran. With your eyes closed, you imagine him on top of you. It's _his_ tongue in your mouth. _His_ hand underneath your shirt. _His_ hips grinding against yours. The mere thought causes you to ache with need and the sensation summons a throaty moan.

In the kitchen, the microwave door slam shut.

You jump, startled by the sound, then by the thought of Saeran nearby.

Oh god... He must have heard!

You and Luciel scramble to each end of the couch like a pair of high school lovers who's parents just walked in the front door. You pull down your shirt and smooth over your hair while Luciel adjusts his hoodie and pulls the bowl of snacks onto his lap. He shoves a handful of chips in his mouth while returning his focus to the horror movie. A chainsaw _whers_ in the background while a teenage girl screams.

You sink into the cushions while that moan echoes repeatedly inside your head. It was loud. Very loud. There's no way Saeran missed it or overlooked the sight of you and Luciel making out only a room away.

The microwave beeps. The door opens and closes. There's a clatter of utensils and then heavy footsteps through the kitchen towards the living room. You glance to see Saeran carrying a bowl of reheated stew and rice, leftovers from tonight's dinner. He catches you looking but his face is impassive.

_I'd just prefer to have you all to myself._

At the sound of his bedroom door closing, Luciel turns to you with an awkward smile. “Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

You muster a laugh, though all the pent-up heat and energy from earlier seeps away with every heartbeat and leaves you cold.

Luciel places the chip bowl back on the table and slides across the couch. You recoil from his reach. “I... It's getting late and it's been kind of a hectic day. I think I'm just going to go to bed,” you tell him while standing and stepping away.

“O-Oh. Oh, alright... Are you feeling okay?” There's a second where he fails to mask his confusion and the subtle pain of rejection underneath his normally cool and casual exterior.

“Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine,” you try to reassure. It's difficult projecting confidence when you're also trying to convince yourself there isn't a problem.

 

 


End file.
